Wish You Were Here
by owl1989
Summary: Hermione always believed in forever, always believed she was in favor with fate...but believing is a far more pleasant truth than reality.
1. The Day He Left

As Hermione Weasley stood on the porch, she couldn't help but admire the man she had called husband for the past twenty-one years. How they survived the events of so many years previously, she still couldn't find an answer logical enough.

Fate was the best way to describe it. Fate destined Harry for the life he led, the tragedy he had succumbed to live through. Fate chose Ron and herself to be by his side every step of the way; it thought them worthy enough. Fate found Harry the perfect companion, the one thing that kept him sane enough during his hunt, the one thing that gave him something more to fight for. Yes, fate had a plan for them all: her, Harry, Ron and his family, their classmates, and the friends each of them acquired over the years…everyone was affected, wizard and muggle alike. Fate even brought Ron and Hermione together in a relationship far beyond that of what friendship could provide.

So, one might ask, why could fate just turn around and play the cruelest trick known to mankind? The answer…life is the farthest thing from fair. It's fickle and enjoys showing favoritism and this time Hermione was not in the loop.

For the past twenty years, Hermione had worked for the Ministry of Magic, first in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and later on as a vital member for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; and Ron had originally begun helping George with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but later joined Harry in the Auror Department. What Hermione had trouble wrapping her mind around was, if he was an Auror why in the name of Merlin would he have joined George on his escapade in the States to further business? Why did he go? George may have been his brother, but it made no sense. None whatsoever…

Three weeks. It had been three weeks before she heard news, before he told her he was alright. Oh, how she desired to wring his neck. She couldn't go with him because it was mid-September-after the Second War, Hogwarts started September 15 rather the 1st-when he left and she was now at Hogwarts…now at Hogwarts teaching Charms. How McGonagall talked her into that she didn't know.

Incidentally, she was forced to wait here…forced to wait as Ginny had waited for Harry during the hunt. It pained her deeply not to wake up to that familiar face and scent every morning, not to block out his annoying snores at night, not to hear his disgruntled voice when the morning rays hit his face, not to hear that belly of his cry in agony and his mumblings of hunger. She missed them, but mostly she missed him. How she ever lived a day in her life without him there, she never knew, nor did she ever want to live them in such a manner. But she did, she _was_ at that moment.

She wished he was here.

The day he left hurt her, their words hurt her, the innocent stares of her children hurt her…

_"Ron, why do _you_ have to go?" she demanded for about the umpteenth time, as he shoved articles of clothing in his travel bag._

_"I already told you 'Mione. I worked with him for _seven_ years and know the business better than his other employees," he responded, irritatingly, still moving about grabbing what he needed._

_"But you don't work there anymore, Ron. I know he's your brother, but Angelina is accompanying him. And she knows the business inside and out, better than you!" Ron visibly stiffened, but showed no other recognition that she hit a very old nerve. "She's the co-owner, for Merlin's sake."_

_"Where's my IDC?" he asked her as he rummaged through a few papers in the bedside drawer._

_"What?" Hermione inquired of him clearly perplexed._

_"My IDC, Hermione," a frustrated Ron responded. "Where is it?"_

_"Your _Ministry Identification Card_?" she questioned him and he nodded, quite annoyed with her. "I-I-It's on the study desk. Why?" she asked as he passed her in the doorway. She followed him pass the kitchen, where fourteen-year-old Rose and thirteen-year-old Hugo were eating breakfast and looking at them curiously, pass the front door where Harry had just appeared, and to the end of the hall, all the while questioning him. "Why do you need your IDC? And your Auror badge, I saw you packing that away, too. Why are you really going to America? What's going on? Ronald Weasley, will you answer me?"_

_He stopped in his tracks and whirled around so fast, Hermione almost knocked them both off their feet. His eyes were a-blazed with nothing short of annoyance and anger. Ron was keeping something from her and she knew it, but that didn't mean he could tell her._

_"Will. You. Stop. I am going and that is final. Damn well get over it!" He could see the insulted look in her eyes, Hermione knew it. It fueled her temper. She too was seething._

_"I will NOT get over it. You're not going because of George, I know better. WHY ARE YOU LEAVING?" she yelled, poking him in the shoulder. Ron grabbed her hand_

_"I am the only one who can seal the deal, Hermione. Leave it be," he informed her quite calmly, much more calmly than what his eyes told. She was rather impressed at how well he was learning to control his anger, but that didn't abate hers._

_"I-"_

_They heard someone clear their throat behind them and turned to the perpetrator who dared to interrupt their argument. _

_"I've been trying to get your attention for a few minutes now." Harry told them, and then to Ron he said, "I have the information." Ron nodded and went to grab his IDC from the study and the travel bag that resided on his and Hermione's bed. When he returned to the sitting room, Hermione flew in yet again as a vulture would for road-kill._

_"What information do you have, Harry?" she asked him dangerously, her steely gaze connected to his nervous one. He noticeably gulped down a bit of fear as he looked to Ron as though asking 'you haven't told her, have you?' _

_Instead of answering her, Harry took papers out of his pocket and handed them to Ron, who stuffed them into his own. Ron then turned to the children._

_"What's going on, Daddy?" Rose asked, with a bewildered look upon her face. "What were those papers for?"_

_"It doesn't matter. Put it out of your mind, my Angel," he told her and she nodded as he gave her a fierce hug to which she held on tightly a tear slipped down her cheek. He kissed her temple and turned to Hugo. "Son, I'm leaving for a couple months." He held onto to him. "Behave yourself. Protect your mother and your sister while I'm gone." He took his Hugo's shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. "I'm depending on you to be the man of house."_

_"I will, Dad," the thirteen-year-old responded, quite shaken._

_Hermione observed the interactions between her husband and children, eyes watering. She ran into his arms when he turned to her. They clung to each other as though they'd never see the other ever again; and she crashed her lips to his. When they pulled apart, he settled his forehead onto hers._

_"Don't go," she pleaded. "Please don't go."_

_"I have to." Ron sadly conveyed, forcing the tears out of her. "You'll understand in due time." Then he let go, embraced his friend and whispered something not heard by the others. Without hesitation, Ron dissapparated from the Living Room, leaving behind his family._

It still pained her.


	2. Oak Tales

"Hermione." She was drawn back from her reverie by the timid voice and whipped around to find Harry holding two glasses of firewhiskey. She accepted one and gave him a small smile.

"It's not your fault. You didn't ask for this any more than I did…I mean, he's your best friend too." She turned back to the setting sun and drunk from the glass in her hand, allowing the fire to melt in her throat.

"I know." He shut the Burrow's door and sat on the porch, motioning her to follow. "But I can't help to think that if I didn't get that paperwork for him, none of this would've happened. He wouldn't have gone and you wouldn't be sitting here trying to drown out your loneliness." He nodded to the near empty glass. A sad smile creased Hermione's forehead and lined her eyes as a tear slipped down her cheek.

"I've never been much of a drinker before, you know that. It just helps."

"That it does," he replied, taking a drink as well. They sat there together in contemplative silence, each basking in their own form of sorrow. After about a minute or two, Harry spoke up.

"Do you have the letters?" he asked her, already knowing she carried them with her everywhere as a friendly reminder that he was still here. She nodded and pulled them both out. Harry stared at his best friend in shock. "You're actually going to let me read them?"

"I don't care what anyone else has to say about this, they might as well be addressed to us both. They are loving, yes. But, Ron's usual self shines through the most." She thrust the letters into his hands, vanished her cup inside and walked to the gravesite nearby, Harry trailing behind her. The gravesite, first built in 1947 with the death of the late Arthur Weasley's grandmother, Helena Rose Weasley, now expanded to hold all deceased relatives numbering barely 13. There, nearby the gravesite, was the most glorious of trees, her Oak.

This particular Oak housed her on its rigid limbs when she sought solitude away from the hustle and bustle of the Burrow. It held her tight in its strong arms when she sought comfort. It knew her deepest secrets. It allowed her and Harry piece of mind when they consolidated their relationship as sibling love. Under this tree she wed her one true love by day and their deeply rooted love conceived Rose by the shadow of the moon.

Upon reaching the barren tree, Hermione fell to her knees, in a fashion that looked as though she was groveling and praying to some higher being. Ironically, she couldn't stop the wishful hope that today was a dream and nothing more, just a nightmare bestowed upon her for the amusement of some higher being or beings. Maybe, even fate. Tears streamed down her face and she could feel Harry kneel down, taking her in his arms. Soon, Hermione felt something lightly pound against her head and she could feel the slight shaking of the one that held her: her lifeline was crumbling with her. They held each other and wept, neither noticing the letters Harry dropped, nor the wind opening the first.

_It was just like any other day within the confines of Hogwarts: teaching, grading papers, handing out detentions, lecturing her own children, nieces and nephews for whatever mischief they found themselves in, and enjoying lunchin the Great Hall. It was now commonly referred to as The Hall of Memories, because after Hogwarts' resurrection, the walls were engraved with the names of those who fell during the first and second war. Quite often enough, professors, and a student or two, could be found solemnly gazing at or intently studying the walls in the dead of night, a few trying to remember, others striving to forget, and many more simply far too curious for his or her own good._

_Hermione was grading the Seventh Years' essays on Protective Charms and being none too kind about it either. The assignment was simple: Write four rolls of parchment explaining the uses of Protective Charms, research and state every known one and its reason for existence, explain the theory of each, and what it takes in order to activate them. But what sat in front of her was nothing short of ridiculous. How most of them thought they'd get an O, she refused to contemplate._

_Just as she marked the final essay with a D, Hermione felt someone sit next to her._

_"Harsh." She heard the drawling voice of Potions Master, Draco Malfoy, as he looked over her shoulder. "But well-deserved. Kingsford is not too bright. If I have to hear about another dream-casting incident in Divination, I'll hurl and pour some Sleeping Drought into her pumpkin juice." He added as he took a bite of steak._

_"Malfoy, Ms Kingsford _is_ bright," she replied, ignoring his scowl. "But, for once we agree on something." He gave her a confused look._

_"What do you mean, Granger?" Draco asked her, sipping his firewiskey._

_"It's _Weasley_. Do we _have_ to go over this every morning: I don't go by Granger. Get it right." Hermione bit back._

_"Quite the temper you have there, Granger." He egged on, receiving a growl, as she stabbed her kidney pie, wishing it to be his smirking face._

_"Anyway," she began, diverting their conversation away from the morning ritual of her marital status and the day-to-day news. "She takes to that Eye and Seeing nonsense Trewlaney teaches. I swear that woman is the most fraudulent person, next to Lockehart, I have ever had the misfortune of meeting."_

_"Like I said, Granger: not too bright." Hermione turned to him with a scowl on her face and a retort settled nicely upon her tongue._

_"Malfoy, if-" _

_But something past her shoulder caught Draco's eye, as he had a curious look on his face. "Granger, isn't that Weaslebee's owl?"_

_She swiveled in her chair so fast, her hair nearly knocked Pigwidgeon out of the air. Hermione gasped as she grabbed at the tiny bird, ignoring his protests. She hastily untied the letter and released the owl, earning quite a reproachful look and sharp peck as he took off._

_"I-uh…I have to go," she told the blond sitting by, gathering up her things. "Good day to you Professor Malfoy."_

_Hermione took off down the middle aisle of tables, exiting the Hall in a flurry of bushy brown. Out of excitement, the Charms Professor nearly ran to her classroom and did, up until she bowled over two second years._

_"I am terribly sorry. Excuse me," she apologized, leaving the two in a tangle of limbs. Hermione whipped out her wand and help them both up, books and bags back in their hands. Before rounding the corner, she heard one whisper, 'was that Professor Weasley?' and couldn't help but grimace. _

_Upon reaching her vacated classroom, the forty-year-old shut the door and set the essays on her desk. She then leaned on said desk, looking at the letter. Hermione could see her name written in Ron's messy handwriting._ **Hermione Weasley**_. She slowly opened it revealing the long-awaited letter from her husband._

**Hey,**

**I miss you Hermione…I miss all of you. It gets fairly lonely here in what the locals call 'paradise,' but I don't see what all the fuss is about. It's bloody **_**hot**_**! There's nothing 'paradise' about that. The only trees are what they call 'Palm Trees': they look like leafy imberllos-whatever muggles call them.**

They're called _umbrellas_, Ronald, _Hermione thought, smirking in amusement._

**George's becoming frustrated. This deal's taking bloody too long in both of our opinions. You'd think we would have made **_**some**_** progress by now, but, even with both of our heads in on this, we haven't even come close. He's becoming unbearable. No jokes, nothing; just boring 'professionalism.'**

**No offense to my brother, but there's only so much George a man can take. Thank Merlin for Angelina. George and I'd have killed each other by now if she weren't here.**

**How is everyone? Is Mum doing better?**

Slightly, _she commented._

**She's not sleep-walking anymore is she? **

Kind of…

**Is Ginny fat yet? **

_She gave a slight laugh. _She's six months along, of course she's _big_.

**Has she kicked Harry out like last time? **

_Oh_, yes. That can happen when you call your wife a 'raging spit-fire' with 'too much time on your hands to allow a mess to pile up' and 'order take-out for an important dinner.' He was being _stupid_.

**I'm **_**so**_** happy those hormones of hers can't find me and yell at me half-way across the world.**

Can you be so sure?

**Anyway, did Hugo dump that red-head—Camille was her name, I think—like I advised? I'll give him a good talking to if not.**

Thank goodness, yes. Miss Brown was getting on my _last_ nerve. And it was Lucy.

**Rose is still single, right? No bloke? **

I don't think you want me to answer that, _she uneasily rationed._

**I saw all those boys eying her at the station after last term. SHE CAN'T **_**EVER**_** DATE! The girls **_**fourteen**_**! She's too young. Who is it?**

Wow! Did he develop seer abilities while across the pond?

**Tell me!**

Sorry, but Malfoy does not need to be heirless.

**Hmm…I'll find out eventually.**

She won't willingly tell you.

**Are you still sick? Pregnant?**

No. Uh…

**It doesn't matter. The two we have can equal six at times. But, one more wouldn't be too much trouble.**

Well, you'll find out soon, now won't you?

**I'm still missing you. I usually sit on the beach at night, watching the sun go down. You're right…it's peaceful, but not peaceful enough. I really do wish that you were here with me. I wish all of you could be here, actually. Over Easter Break, I propose that the entire family make a trip down here.**

**Still missing everyone more and more,**

**Love Ron**

_The paper shook, as Hermione finished the letter. Nothing seemed to matter at that moment, not even the fact that class would start soon. She reached up a quivering hand to wipe away the stray tears. It was…so him._

_"Oh, Ron-"_

_She heard the door bang open and voices of her seventh-year students echo against the four walls; and looked up just in time to see the funniest site known to this bushy-haired woman. Her nephew was hanging from the ceiling by the soles of his shoes._

_"James Potter, you're the most insufferable prat I've ever met." Susie Brunson exclaimed upon entering the room. Her hair was red yarn and she wore a blue-and-white polka-dot dress, white bloomers, red-and-white stockings, with an apron tied about her neck._

_"Thanks," he responded, nonchalantly as the rest of the class erupted in laughter. "I do say, my dear, you look quite lovely today." The girl seemed to shake with irrepressible anger._

_"It's not Halloween, yet, you idiot!" she seethed. "Turn me back!"_

_James just laughed at her misfortune, despite the blood rushing to his head. "Whoa." He put a hand to his head. "Can you put me down?"_

_"No!" Was the fired-up girls answer as she sat at her seat. _

_"Fine." With a wave of his wand, Susie returned to normal._

_"Ain't gonna happen Potter," she replied with a satisfied smirk playing upon her lips._

_"Aunt Hermione!" James gave her an exasperated plea. Up until then, she had been watching in amusement, refusing to interfere. She gave a sigh._

_"Miss Brunson," she began. "If you would please let him down, it would be greatly appreciated." The resigned girl groaned as she picked up her wand, but was interrupted by the amused Professor. "But…at the end of class, if you will," Hermione told her with a wink._

_Susie grinned widely at that. James gaped and sputtered his indignation. Although, none of it was heard as the laughter started up again._

_And even that barely lasted two seconds._

_"Ahem!" Hermione diverted their attention to her hard stare. She picked up the essays from earlier and, with a flick of her wand, returned them. Everyone was none too pleased with their results. "Now…these essays were quite atrocious. Therefore, they will be rewritten." That was met by quite a many groans, but Hermione stood her ground. "Silence! Take out quill and parchment." There was a slight shuffle as everyone gathered the two items._

_"The Fidelius Charm…"_


End file.
